


Lullaby Haze

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one thing he doesn't know by memory is his taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby Haze

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ July 8, 2011.

  
Kamui still remembers the moment everything snapped into place, the moment when he looks up and sees Fuuma and doesn’t see an annoyance. The annoyance is still there, but there is something else lurking beneath the surface, something that Kamui does not wish to acknowledge, to examine. So it lingers beneath the surface.  
  
But eventually it snaps, as all things must snap. And the world stiffens into sharper focus. And Fuuma is always there, if not seizing his entire vision, then floating in the peripheral—the smell of him, the sight of him, the feel of his hands grazing past his as he reaches for his gun, his knife, anything anything anything. The only thing he does not know by memory is the taste of him.   
  
So one day, he pulls Fuuma to him, pulls him so that he’s over and against Kamui, pressing Kamui against the wall. Fuuma quirks one eyebrow, as if disbelieving, and Kamui mutters something incoherent, something demanding. And, much to his pleasure—his chagrin—his distaste—his relief—Fuuma responds, with a razorblade smile as he leans in and takes Kamui’s direction, mouth slanting over his and Kamui can taste him, taste what he tastes.   
  
He thrives on how much Fuuma’s body encases him, how the shadow cast against the wall completely covers him and when Kamui rests his hands on Fuuma’s shoulders, it’s far gentler than he’d anticipated, but he does not find it unpleasant.   
  
Fuuma, though, is laughing in his ear, a short, breathless movement and he can feel the air in his lungs, just beneath the ribcage Kamui can feel pressing down against his own, feel the pulsing beat of a human heart.   
  
“It’s not like you to be so gentle,” Fuuma chuckles into his ear, voice wispy, playful, and yet questioning. Kamui feels his eyes flash for a moment, feels them bleed into another color and he inhales sharply.   
  
He makes sure that the nails dig in deep.


End file.
